


Fucking Heaven

by DeansDirtyPiehole



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Cock Worship, Dean Winchester Has a Large Cock, Dean Winchester is a God, Dean Winchester's Big Beautiful Cock, Deepthroating, F/M, Light Bondage, One Shot, Oral Sex, Porn, Smut, Stripper, cherry pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyPiehole/pseuds/DeansDirtyPiehole
Summary: Hell has given you a mission: kill Dean Winchester. But once you lay eyes on his godly gorgeous perfection, you're really not sure you can follow those orders...Either way, heaven knows you have to taste him first.**********This scene is inspired in part by one of the most epic — and, no doubt, most accurate — Dean quotes ever (Season 3, Episode 7):"I smell good, don't I? I taste even better."





	1. Fucking Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot and can be read on its own. It's also part of a longer fic that I've been working on (Cherry Impala, which I've begun posting), so it can also be read as a teaser for that one! 
> 
> The main difference between this version and the one that appears in the full fic is that the fic features Dean with an original female character. (That's why I've included tags for both Reader and OFC.) So the full fic will be written in the third person. In this teaser version, I've replaced "she"/"her" with "you" so that the one shot can be enjoyed as a reader-insert. But it's otherwise mostly the same thing.
> 
> To get into the role, just imagine yourself working as a stripper for the night. You go by Cherry Pie :)

His eyes are closed when you walk in.

You shudder to think what may have happened if they hadn't been. Even just the memory of looking into them for the first time, earlier tonight—the way you had felt your entire being melt beneath the glow of those glorious green eyes, the way the two of you had suddenly collided and then just stood there in silence, as your gazes devoured each other from the outside in—makes your head spin. Much to your relief, Dean doesn't seem to be awake at the moment.

Closing the door quietly, you take a slow step forward, then another. He is even more beautiful than you remember. Body sprawled on the bed by the far wall, hands tied to the headboard, lips parted, chest rising and falling with each breath he takes in his unconscious state. The demon had apparently begun undressing him just before your arrival, but not all the way. His shirt has been flung to the floor beside the bed, his belt unbuckled, fly unzipped. But that's it.

You can't imagine anything more tempting than the sight of him like this. The unveiling of perfection underway, but not yet finished. If he were fully clothed, or fully naked, you know that it would've been easier to resist. You're sure the demon knew it, too. This was no accident.

As you near the bed, Dean stirs. Your hammering heart flutters. Once his eyes open, once you look into those emerald orbs again, you know you will be done for, through and through. And the last thing that you want—no matter what might end up happening tonight—is for him to see you.

You notice then that the demon had left a few choice items on the nightstand by the bed: a knife, some tasteless sex toys, and a blindfold. You breathe a sigh of relief, take up the strip of cloth and fasten it around Dean's pretty head in a firm knot. Now you are safe.

Or as safe as you can hope to be tonight. As your hand had brushed his face setting the blindfold into place, the contact with his smooth skin, fleeting though it'd been, had been enough to feel like sin. It's a sin that you want to commit every night for the rest of your life.

When he wakes, something inside of you awakens along with him. Something that feels like everything.

Settling softly down onto the bed, you kneel beside his head, your gaze fixed on his luscious lips, the tongue that you can now see glistening behind them in the dim bedroom lighting.

You speak before he can, a murmur that you hope doesn't betray the many dangerous things you're feeling. "Hey, Dean."

His brow furrows above the cloth that blinds him. "Who—"

"Somebody gave you to me," you state simply. "Said that I should take good care of you tonight."

"I..."

"You up for that, big guy?" you whisper in his ear, unable to bite back the urge to flick your tongue against it, for just one taste of his skin, to take the lobe between your teeth and tease the tender flesh for just a second.  _What the fuck are you doing. Why the fuck can't you stop._ You ask this of yourself, knowing how wrong it is, but meanwhile your legs have started moving and then suddenly you're straddling him, pressed up against the bare skin of his abdomen. Some part of you knows better than to settle any lower. Not just yet. Even fully clothed, you're sure that you would've exploded on the instant if your crotch were rubbing up against his cock.

Dean's breath visibly hitches in his throat as you grind your hips into his bare stomach. "Um— _fuck_..."

"If you want me to stop, you just say so, okay?" your lips are hovering just above the subtle cleft in his chin as you lean into him. The words you utter next are so much truer than they should be, from the core of your heart to the ends of the earth, and it's fucking terrifying, but thankfully you know that he won't take them in that way. "I'll do anything you say."

"No, don't—" he answers and your heart hangs on his words, beating again upon what he so beautifully breathes next, "...don't stop."

 

**********

 

Dean is sure that this is heaven. Though he's not sure why heaven would blind him while all this is happening. But whatever the reason, it was _so_ worth whatever drug or poison that demon had slipped in his drink.

In his darkness, he imagines everything—the cherry red sheen of the lips moving against his in the longest, deepest kiss; the [Y/H/C] color of the hair flowing against his skin as you descend to taste the rest of him; and, most of all, the beautiful [Y/E/C] hue of the gaze that he can feel downright devouring his body, awestruck and adoring. He's always known himself to be pretty damn goodlooking, but the obsessive admiration that he senses in each sweet stroke of your lips and tongue upon him... hell, he doesn't know if any man could ever be deserving. That's why this has to be heaven.

_She sure smells like heaven_ , he thinks. _Fruity lip gloss and faint floral perfume, mixing in seamlessly with the sweet natural scent of the woman she is._ Like a ripe, juicy cherry pie fresh from the oven. The very Cherry Pie that he imagines. The stunning girl with whom he had so suddenly collided earlier this evening. Dean isn't big on chick flick moments, and he doesn't do that whole love and... love thing. But even he can't deny how epic, how earth-shattering, that fucking eye contact had been.  _Her stripper name is Cherry Pie_ , one of his friends had told him.

Dean can't see a thing now, but he imagines everything. That's the girl he imagines.

_And goddamn, she is saying things._ In that sultry, satiny voice of pure sin. Fucking incredible, mind-blowing things. _Definitely heaven._

"You are a fucking god, you know that?" you effuse, the tip of your talented tongue dipping slowly into the hollow of his throat, swirling and licking up a stray drop of his sweat.

_Fucking heaven._

"So damn gorgeous, Dean," you marvel breathlessly into his dewy skin.

As you then kiss a sensitive spot on his neck, Dean feels his vocal cords vibrate against your lips as he lets out a long, loose moan, soon echoed by one of your own.

"So perfect," you gush as your mouth drops to the broad planes of his chest. "Every inch of this body was made to be worshiped."

And so you do just that. Leaving no inch of his trembling torso untasted, untouched. Like you have never longed for anything so much. You lavish attention on his nipples, teasing each between your teeth, the tender bites turning to torrid kisses, trailing all across his firm pecs and his sweat-slick pits, exposed thanks to the ties that bind his hands above his head, lingering in the light thatch of hair there to relish his scent for a second, then sinking down to trace the ripples of his abs, treating every ridge of muscle like a treasure meant to be savored forever.

Plenty of girls have admired and worshiped his body before—Dean knows from experience that his good looks can turn any given chick into a whore—but _never_ like this. Not even close. Never with such purity, such passion, as if his pleasure is her entire life's purpose.

He feels your fingers tuck into the top of his jeans, tugging downward, slowly. Too slowly. His hips thrust lustily up from the bed in response to your touch, urging you to rip these goddamned clothes off all at once, but he feels your lips curl up against him in a smile as you keep taking your time, pressing wet kisses into the heated skin above his undone belt buckle, nibbling at the upper edge of his underwear, pulling and then releasing, the elastic landing back on his crotch with a sharp little snap. The tease is torture, but the torture is heaven. He groans at the sensation of his cock straining with need beneath the denim where your neck rubs up against him.

Hands and teeth working in perfect unison, soon enough you have stripped everything off of him. You stare in reverent silence for a while; he can feel your gaze upon him even more intensely when his own is blinded.

"Dean," you breathe. There is something in your voice that makes his heart stop, and it's everything he needs. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Dean wishes more than anything that he could say it back. He's sure it's true. "Wanna see you so bad, baby... please..."

You carry on worshiping him as if he hadn't said a thing. Your fingers grip onto his muscular thighs as if for dear life, massaging and kneading as you push his legs apart and settle into place between them, lowering your head until he feels your lustrous hair brushing over his hips, hot breath fanning across his cock, his thick column of throbbing meat dripping with precome and hard as a rock.

Then you pause just before diving in. He can hear you breathing deeply where you kneel before him, each exhale a shuddering sigh of pure pleasure, each inhale a desperate plea for more, as if the musk exuding from his manhood has become your fucking oxygen.

To hammer home that thought, you bring your face in toward his crotch and the next thing he feels is your nose pressed up into the base of his cock, your panting lips against his sweaty balls, and _fuck_ if that's not the most heavenly level of hot.

" _God_ , Dean," you sigh. "You smell so damn good I could die."

So could he, and he will if you keep up this tease. His dick is absolutely aching to be sucked. Inspired with a surge of confidence, he figures that he may as well whip out his charms to try and tempt you.

"Yeah?" He licks his lips, tilting his head slightly downward toward where you are, wrists chafing against the ties that bind him, wishing that his gaze could burn a hole right through the cloth that blinds him. He needs to see you now. Never wanted anything more. "I taste even better."

And those words have the exact effect that he had hoped for. In an instant, your heavenly mouth is all over his massive length, kissing and licking and sucking him every which way, lips caressing the swollen head, flicking eagerly into his leaking slit, moaning at the taste of his juices, letting his arousal mix inseparably with your spit as you slather the rest of his dick with it, lapping up long, sloppy stripes from base to tip. Slobbering slavishly all over him like you were born to do it. When you suddenly take him inside your mouth, all the way down in one swift stroke, the head of his cock buried deep in the back of your throat, and then he feels the soft, wet warmth contract around him as you fucking _swallow_ , Dean is sure that he's dying all over again. He hadn't even thought that such a thing was possible in heaven.

He knows he's not supposed to come so soon, but what the fuck is he supposed to do, here with your tight throat milking him for everything he's worth, your tongue wriggling against him, slick with thirst, your soft lips wrapped so perfectly around his girth, and now one of your hands fondling the fullness of his nutsack as the middle finger of your other hand slides underneath and unexpectedly fucks straight into his ass, and—yeah, that's that.

Dean gasps as his cock convulses in a sweet burst of release and rope after rope of thick, hot come explodes in your throat. You swallow each one down as if your mouth was fucking made to drink his load. He's barely even done when he realizes that the euphoric sounds you're making as you suck him in are threatening to get him rock hard all over again. _Fucking heaven._

Slowly, smoothly, you slide his pulsating dick out of your mouth, but only to start kissing every inch of it, like you're thanking him for some precious gift. "So good, Dean. _Fuck._ I live for this cock," you murmur as you encircle the head with your loving lips, squeezing every last lingering drop of his come from it, then drop doting kisses all over his shaft, and no way is he going soft anytime soon after that.

When you finally pull back, he feels one of your hands lifting away from him, then hears the slurp of one of your fingers sliding into your own mouth, slipping out with a succulent popping sound. He wonders if that's the same finger that you had plunged into his asshole just moments ago. The kinky bastard in him hopes so. He's not about to ask, though, so he'll never know.

"Mmmm," you hum. "You really do."

Dean is still struggling to steady his breathing, coming down from the highest, hardest climax of his life. "Do what?"

"Taste even better," you tell him, shifting on the bed, bowing your head to bring your lips down to his neck, then inching up toward his mouth. "Just like you said. Wanna taste for yourself?"

"I wanna taste _you_ ," he replies, having fully convinced his blind self by this point that the girl on top of him definitely has to be Cherry Pie. In which case he desperately needs to return the favor, suck and savor every inch of this heaven-sent lover.

You let out a soft little purr of a laugh as you nibble his plump lower lip. "Bet you do. But tonight's about you."

Your luscious tongue twirls around his in a devilish dance of a kiss, slick with the flavor of his juices, and he knows he can't resist, not even if he wanted to.

Then you wander away from his lips to litter love bites all along his jawline. "A little birdie told me you hate strippers, Dean. That true?"

Dean's heart leaps; he remembers having said those words right before he collided with Cherry Pie. The words couldn't be less true, obviously, but he had blurted them out in a brief outburst of frustration, after every other stripper in the club had been harassing him all night. _This must be her._ _It has to be._ "I, uh—I dunno... Are you?"

"A stripper?" you ask through a kiss on the sensitive skin just beneath his chin. "Yes."

"Then no," he says. "Hell, no. I fucking _love_ strippers."

He fucking loves _you_ , he thinks as your sweet mouth locks onto his again, and he can taste your smile, taste the love requited on your lips. He knows it's fucking stupid, feeling so much from a kiss, but in this moment, bound and blinded as he is, he really doesn't give a shit. All he wants and needs is more. Of you, of this.

Somewhere in the kiss, Dean realizes he's not really in heaven. Never has been. Knew it all along, deep down. Heaven and the winged freaks that haunt him in his dreams would never let this happen, never let him have such happiness. Not on their hallowed grounds. Some part of him has always known that heaven wants to take from him the thing that he loves most.

He's found it now, his own heaven on earth.

And he is never letting go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of the one shot / teaser! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are awesome and always much appreciated <3
> 
> If you enjoyed this and would like to read what comes (pun intended?) before and afterward, you can check out Cherry Impala, a Dean/Cherry fic that I've begun posting. It will involve some plot, a lot of love, and tons of smut like the above. Do feel free to subscribe if you'd like to keep up with the updates :)
> 
>  
> 
> ** Note to my beloved Bitchfans (you know who you are!) — I know these new fics that I've been working on are a lot less shamelessly dirty than Bitch, and they'll have less sex and more plot, so I'm really grateful that you're following so far and I hope you're still able to enjoy them!! At least the smutty parts ;) No worries if not, I'll understand... Bitch set the bar for filth really high hahah. Dean will still play around with all the dominating and degrading stuff, but a LOT less, and he will love and respect Reader/Cherry a lot more, as he will stay human throughout both fics. **
> 
> I do promise that the one constant theme in all of my Dean fics is that he will always be fucking worshiped like the gorgeous god he is <3


	2. * UPDATE *

Just an update that the first chapter of the full version of this fic, [Cherry Impala](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480066), is now available to read :)

Much love and sweet Deandreams to all of you! <3


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